


Whispers in the Warp

by DemiGoddess



Category: Rogue Trader, Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Autosexuality, Body Dysphoria, Body Suits, Come Eating, F/F, Gender Dysphoria, Genestealer, Large Breasts, Leather, Lesbian Character, Masturbation, Mental Link, Mutation, Navis Nobilite, OC, Playing fast and loose with how genestealers work here, Rogue Traders, Trans Female Character, Transformation, Tyranid, Tyranids are hot yo, navigator, third eye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 01:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14415051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemiGoddess/pseuds/DemiGoddess
Summary: Maria Belisarius, Navigator of the Imperium, has a damning but alluring secret beneath her suit.





	Whispers in the Warp

**Author's Note:**

> Literally cranked this out in a night for a character I haven't even played yet, hehe. Tyranids are hot and no one can tell me otherwise. I'm newish to 40K, but plot details aren't why you're here anyway.

Maria settled into the plush navigator’s chair in the ship’s sanctum, her black bodysuit creaking against the simple leather. A navigator’s garb and sanctum were normally intricate, overwrought affairs like everything else in the Imperium, but she preferred to keep things simple. Tassels and ceremonial bullshit like that could lead to a decidedly unceremonious death when you have to make your way through the crime-ridden streets of a hiveworld. Her sanctum was a smooth sphere, all of it screen on which to project star charts. The variable gravity allowed her to move herself and her chair around the room with ease in order to better ride the pulsing tides of the Warp. 

The ship’s other crew was… special, to say the least, and a particularly exhausting group to deal with. Not that she would prefer to serve on a boring ship. There were very few places she’d rather be than navigating on a low-class ship full of interesting, if completely insane, people. For now though, she needed to be alone.

Except she was never alone. Not really.

She could see her reflection in the black screen. She saw a sculpted, stern face accentuated by close-cropped black hair. Her pale skin was devoid of blemish and deformity (a rarity in House Belisarius). She could see the slightly distant look in her dark eyes staring back at her. The third eye in her forehead, that telltale mutation that marked her as a navigator and allowed her to see the Warp, also stared blankly into itself. It was most certainly functional (though that wasn’t always the case) yet it remained milky and grey like a blind woman’s eye. Her lightly muscled and lush body pushed against the bodysuit, an effect she cultivated deliberately. She was proud of her body, and while her muscle was well earned, the rest of her beauty was a precious gift, one of many bestowed upon her by the creature that completed her.

She could hear the whispering voices of the Hive Mind assert herself in her brain, and she allowed herself an uncharacteristic smirk. They spoke to her in her own voice, yet in a language she understood but did not know. She ran her hand across the back of her neck, feeling the beginnings of the small, chitinous protrusions that now covered her spine. Another gift. The Imperium would burn her for it, but she treasured the mutations given to her by the genestealer DNA within her. They reminded her that she really could become something greater. They reminded her of how far she’d come from being the family disgrace with a defective third eye and a body that didn’t match her mind.

The voices intensified as Maria examined herself. She felt her crotch stir at their promises of transformation -- of inextricable, violent, erotic oneness. She pressed her back into the chair and felt the bony protrusions press into the leather, the pressure sending shudders up her spine. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew what would happen when her ovipositor developed and she could start infecting people. She knew how many worlds would die. But by Thrones was the idea of being changed so fucking hot. 

Maria unzipped her suit.

She desperately grasped at her erect shaft, aching for attention. Her back arched further into the plush leather of the chair as she gently stroked the underside of her head, now wet and sticky with precum. She grabbed her left nipple with her other hand and stroked the swollen, sensitive nub. She could feel the the tickling bolt of sensation travel up her spine, drawing attention to her mutation again and flooding her brain with warmth and electricity and ache and softness and anticipation. She opened her third eye to the Warp, the tides gently sweeping her mind along, the voices whispering to her all the while.

She looked at her reflection again. All three of her eyes were half-lidded, their once cold gaze now hazy with unrepentant lust. Her large, heavy breasts now rested free and heaving with each shaky breath she managed to take in despite the quite literally mind-bending arousal. She licked her lips, and the sight of her own reflection running her tongue across her slender lips made her yearn for the moist kiss of another woman on her nipples. Her moans and gasps echoed around her sanctum, a chorus of women sharing in her intense arousal. 

The whispers reached a fever pitch. They caressed her brain like a practiced lover’s hands, reaching into her synapses like slender fingers parting labia, promising her so much more. She’d change, she’d become part of the Swarm, just one cell in a greater, writhing, beautiful monster.

And every Throne-damned second of it would get her off.

She came. Her voice cracking in a relieved moan. Her hands were drenched in sticky, virulent cum. It was thicker and richer than before, now laden with her Tyranid seed. She ran her dripping finger across her tongue. She thought for sure she could taste the potential as her own cum coursed across her taste buds in a sour trail. 

She sighed as the whispers faded and she slowly recomposed herself. She did have a job to do, after all. As exciting as they could be, both navigation and world infestation were a lot of work.

But the rewards would be so, so sweet.

~


End file.
